


A Bloody Match

by VeniVediVici



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-10
Packaged: 2017-12-23 01:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeniVediVici/pseuds/VeniVediVici
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A prompt filled on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bloody Match

Victor was one of those lonely little boys who don’t have many friends to play with on the playground. His clothes were ragged and ill-fitting; they were hand-me-downs from his older brother, who died from an unfortunate car crash when Victor was fifteen. Some say that there was something ominous about that day, that only death could ever come of a day like that. The skies were black as night and clouds burst with the crashing of thunder claps, unleashing a torrent of harsh rain that caused the road to become slick. But if you ask Victor’s father, it wasn’t the rain that caused Gerald to die.

As Victor grew older, things got stranger.

His neighbors reported strange noises occurring at night, very late. The witching hour, some say. What else could it be besides a peeping Tom perhaps? A mischievous teen out way past their curfew? No one knew, and no one paid much attention after that.

One day, Mr. Whale fell down the stairs. His head was all smashed in and blood splattered on the walls. Victor wasn’t home when the police arrived; he was seen outside the high school with a strange little smile adorning his lips. Oh, nothing ever came of the scene. Victor was let go, his freedom guaranteed. Mr. Whale was an old man, the police said, and old men sometimes fall without meaning to. That’s just the way things go sometimes. They wrapped his old man up in a body bag or two, and took him away. The orphaned Victor Whale watched it go, not a tear in his eye. No love lost between those two, or so the rumors say, but little old ladies would sometimes whisper that everyone ought to shed at least one tear when their parent died. It was the right thing to do, even if you were actually quite pleased.

So there he was, a boy of seventeen; too old to be given to foster care or a relative, but too young to really survive on his own.

And then an angel in red——or a devil, perhaps——found poor Victor sitting all alone. Her lips were redder than the reddest rose, and her pitch black hair hung in glossy tendrils about her angular face. The perfection of beauty, the golden ratio of his, why, she was everything he’d ever hoped she could be. Her name was Ruby Lucas, and she lived with her grandmother. The stories go that Anita tried to kill her daughter, and almost succeeded. Ruby had been pulled bloody from her mother, and the blood stayed always somewhere on her body. Whether it be a crimson scarf, or highlighted pieces of hair, the sin of her matricide splashed across her body for all to see.

Ruby invited Victor to come stay with her.

He accepted gracefully, with that oh-so-peculiar smile.

Now old Granny Lucas was as sweet as could be, if by sweet, you meant a prickly cactus bush, then you are right. She’d loved her daughter, but was overbearing and tough. Not everyone thought that rules were right. Ruby was disturbed in her sweet teenage mind, and mused that a silver knife would look good buried in that old woman’s chest. Too constricting, too rude, too everything.

When Ruby met Victor, she found a kindred soul. They both thought alike and loved the color of blood.

So one night, they tip-toed through the inn, avoiding the creaking floor-boards. Their hands were clasped firmly together. The pact they’d made was made in blood. Who better to do this with than with someone who understood you? An attack ensued, and screams were heard. Why was this happening? Who are you? Stop! Stop, Ruby, stop it! Who is this? Why are you doing this? Oh, they relished the screams of the poor old woman, bathed their hands in the blood of her dying. She died in violence. They were reborn in her death.

The neighbors heard all of the screaming, and this time Victor wasn’t so lucky. He was caught, hands shaking, blood dripping. This wasn’t right, not right at all. He hadn’t meant to kill this woman. Ruby had told him, told him that it was the right thing to do. But it wasn’t, he cried out as silver handcuffs enclosed themselves around his wrists, she didn’t really care for him, did she?

Ruby was sitting in the pool of her grandmother’s blood, eyes glancing at the police like a wary dog. She didn’t care that she’d killed her flesh and blood. Her grin was pearly white, teeth long and thin. It was as if she had transformed into a monstrous creature, and if the police had looked closer, they would have seen that beneath her matted black hair, that blood dripped down her chin.

But it was too late to notice that beneath Victor’s collar, a bite would had healed over, concealing the true killer.


End file.
